


Entertainment

by aerialtreasury



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Butt Plugs, Exhibitionism, Gen, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sex Work, Vibrators, Webcams, camboy, connor is a camboy, very heavily implied connor/hank but not the focus yfm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-21 01:35:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16149788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerialtreasury/pseuds/aerialtreasury
Summary: Connor, a somewhat seasoned call boy, is used to not being able to see the effect of his work. Camming was an entirely new world. Still, if the almost consistent pinging from his laptop was anything to go by, he's probably doing something right.





	Entertainment

It started with phone work. Which, over time, proved to be laughably easy and borderline mundane. He didn’t even really expect any customers, any popularity; let alone regulars.

Research was some breed of embarrassing, ‘learning’ how to dirty talk. In the same light, it intrigued him. Teaching himself exactly what words hit which nerve, how easily he could push a customer over the edge with a simple paragraph, should he feel the desire to. Empowering, Connor decides, the feeling is good.

Some of the more ‘experienced’ phone workers even had books out on the subject. In all likelihood, it was their expert tips that got him his first regulars. He didn’t expect much, when he posted a shitty little advertisement on a couple social sites for a ‘good time with cute twink’.  
As it turns out, people on the internet these days are very, _very_ horny, and have an awful lot of time on their hands; not to mention the cash.

Connor moved through the process faster than he expected. Before he knew it the talk was something akin to muscle memory. One liked being talked down on, one liked being praised, one liked to praise him. Others were a little, well, out there.

“Be a good boy for me, bark.” Connor sang into the cellphone, pressed tight into his shoulder as he busied himself fishing through the couch for the television remote. “I can’t hear you! C’mon, puppy! ...Good boy.”

With a drawn out groan the line clicks dead and Connor chuckles, checking the clock. The guy paid for a 10 minute session, 5 more minutes than usual, and only lasted for 3 of it. Whatever, money is money; and 15 bucks is, well, dinner.

Really, the only problem was Hank Anderson.

That sentence, that realization, sat like a rock in the pit of Connor’s stomach. Because Hank in himself isn’t really _the_ problem. It’s just… he’s around an awful lot. They share a penthouse apartment, after all. And the expensive DPD ones out in the ‘nicer’ parts of the city they were relocated to just happen to idolize minimalism. So, naturally, Connor was on his toes 24/7. If Hank heard him saying any of the things he did over the phone to his callers—

The thought made Connor… red. Was red an emotion? If the warm blush that crept up his neck all the way to the tips of his ears had a name, it would be the emotion, and Connor would call it ‘red’.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t shame. No, Connor left shame back in, like, 2028. But still, there’s a line there. The ‘Hank Line’, as Connor affectionately refers to it. Should that line ever be crossed he’d have to change his name and move to Alaska. Not even the witness protection program could save him at that point, let alone Jesus.

Hank crosses his mind every now and again during a session, sure. And yeah, maybe Connor will have his dick in his hand (because that’s what the guy on the other hand wants) and the absolute pitiful attempt at dirty talk coming from the other end of the line isn’t nearly enough for him to get there.

Maybe sometimes he imagines it’s Hank calling him from work. Hank’s hand around his cock, and maybe that makes him twitch with a fiery, burning spark of sudden interest, of _need_ . Hank telling him to work his hand faster, slower, harder, there you go, _good boy, that’s it, good boy—_

Maybe, sometimes, Hank helps Connor out a lot more than he even realizes. Not that he will ever, repeat ever, be given that kind of powerful knowledge.

Camming just sort of showed up on his doorstep one day.

He didn’t really have ‘friends’ in the industry, just people he knew in it. People from forums, chat rooms; usual underground stuff. One of them mentioned it offhand, that she was considering the ‘switch’ to camming.

That conversation led to hours and then days of research done in Incognito Mode on his browser at home, with the door safely locked. Then all _that_ led to buying an HD webcam with an Amazon giftcard, some nice fairy lights, and his very first Hitachi wand. Sure, toys weren’t necessary, but they helped. Considering Connor was essentially starting from scratch, there was nothing else really to do but dive in head first with the best he could get his hands on and hope it paid off. Literally.

His ads were getting moderate attention, making rounds every now and again with a new post to Tumblr or whatever social site he felt like subjecting himself to that day. He’d promptly ignore most (if not all) of his dm’s and just post a picture or two. The icing on top was the little promo for his ‘special Snapchat’, as it were, which only costed a small amount to gain access to.

Small amounts add up, though. Enough that Connor felt confident enough he’d have at least an audience of one or two of his already paying regulars.

He made sure his first day was a day Hank would be away for a while. Maybe a work trip, a night late at the office. If he were really lucky, maybe they’d even get him on a good homicide case.   
But as luck would have it, Hank’s hours get upped just in time for Connor’s first time dipping his toes in the water.

“Fucking amazing.” Hank barks from the door, tugging at his tie and throwing it across the room with little regard for where it lands. “First they cut funding, now they want more hours outta me? Bull-fucking- _shit_.”

Connor casts his glance to Sumo, currently swarming Hank in circles. “Sumo doesn’t like that kind of language.”

Hank sort of wheezes, sort of laughs, cards his fingers through Connor’s hair as he passes by the couch.

Since the realization that someday would be _the day_ , the buzzing feeling of excitement in his chest wouldn’t go away. Not even in the face of Hank’s sour mood. But he can’t give any indication he’s _happy_ about whatever the DPD thinks they’re doing, because in reality it does suck pretty hardcore. Hank works his ass off and he loves his work, but for years the funding situation has been so wishy-washy that even _he’s_ starting to get secondhand-frustration with the DPD.

“More like… Detroit _Prick_ Department.”

Hank snorts. “Nice one.”   
Connor leans into the rumble of Hank’s chest, melting into his frame as he plops himself next to the android on the couch.

It’s good when he can get Hank to smile. For a long time that wasn’t possible. Years spent just trying to get his head on straight. Smiling and laughing and shit-talking his job while watching _The Price is Right_ on the couch in their own home; it felt like a dream.

It’s hard to say when exactly Connor developed the feeling he did for Hank, and likely vice versa. Connor’s excuse, which he will live and die by, is that his feelings were being repressed by his own programming; deviating set all of the metaphorical cats out of the metaphorical bag.

“Your _programming_ kept you from telling me you were in love with me?” Hank had asked, more of a statement to himself for confirmation that yes, he did actually just hear that.

Connor shrugged, must’ve done something ‘funny’ with his face again, because Hank laughed and laughed and didn’t stop laughing long enough that it became concerning.

“I guess that would explain it.” Connor bites his lip, and it doesn’t go unnoticed how Hank’s eyes follow the action, trained to his lips. “It felt like… the words were there I just— something wouldn’t let me say them.”

“Homophobia at its finest.” Hank clinked his beer against Connor’s, a drink he had left untouched until now.

"I suppose so.” Connor ignored Hank’s bubbly, tipsy laughter at his own joke, mind going a mile a minute. “What’s your excuse, then?”  
Hank swallowed audibly, setting his drink down. “My _what_?”

Connor looked him right in the eyes that night, rain pelting outside and the muffled sound of oldies rock & roll playing from both everywhere and nowhere in the bar. “Why didn’t you tell me you loved me?”

And so, being stupid old clueless man, Hank responded, stupidly, with a simple: “Dunno.”

 

While a lot of things happened that night, an exact answer to that question wasn’t one of them. It wasn’t something that hung over his head, though. Because once he stayed the night, the another, and one after that— Connor looked up and realized one day he never really left. He welded himself into an empty corner of Hank’s life that neither of them realized was even there in the first place; and he fit perfectly, somehow.

Nonetheless, work continued as usual as it possibly could for Hank, and Connor mostly busied himself at home with… other things.

So when Hank texts him saying (among a string of obscenities and other nonsense) that he’s going to be:   
“bery lTE TONIGHT”   
“**KATE TONIGHT”   
“SIRI TEXT CONNOR”   
Connor almost explodes with excitement.

Alright, this is happening.

Connor checked every lock (twice) before getting to work in stripping himself of his shirt, pants, and grabbing a towel to settle on his bed.

Pillows encasing him and sheets protected, he grappled for the lube in his bedside draw from muscle memory, lifting his laptop and logging in.

Oh, wait, the outfit. Right. Right.

There were a million cam girls/boys/what-have-you’s out there. Not to mention anybody could walk into a club and fuck an android literally programmed _solely to fuck_ anytime. That was a lot to compete with.  
If online articles taught him anything, he had to stand out. Also, his first night shouldn’t be anything to celebrate. Probably a lot of spam. Maybe a little promo beforehand would help out.

The outfit was sort of an impulse buy. A lacy, nearly translucent pink lingerie set. Complete with frilly white lace, a place to clip his kitty-eared thigh-highs, and an intricate heart shaped cut out clinging to the curve of his ass. Sort of boyshorts bordering on the usual lingerie bottoms— whatever, he wasn’t about to let it go to waste.

Of course, he’d let Hank get first hand experience with all this, too. Just with something a little higher quality, and when his backup cooling fans didn’t kick in at the mere thought of Hank seeing him like this.

Tapping the familiar Snapchat icon on his iphone, he triple-checked he was on the right account before taking a couple photos. Satisfied with one, face out of frame just as much as it was in (lips were important, always include lips), a soft lighting filter, and some hearts-

_“Streaming live tonite. Come see me? xoxo”_

He settled the laptop so he could only be seen from the neck down. For now, anyway. Showing his face the first time felt far too intimate for his liking; the irony of the concept did not go unnoticed.

Connor bit his lip, nervous energy running through his body like hot fire as he logged into the website, setting up his virtual room. Everything was ready. All he had to do was press a button and people would flood in.  
The spam and rules bot popped up first.

 

**RulesBot1: No, I won’t show my face/tell you personal info. Yes, I will ban for slurs/spam. Only logged in users can comment.  
** **  
** **DeviantbbyBot1: hey guys! No tip threshold, just here for fun ;) 1-on-1 chats always open, talk to me <3 Wishlist, tipping info, PO box in descrip! -From: Deviantbby**

**TagBot: #twink #prettyboy #trans #brat #ropebunny #bottom #panties #gay #solo #bigclit**

 

An audience began to trickle in faster than expected, mostly spam accounts, Connor mused. But still, 40 people watching him was a lot. He leaned forward to type out a more personal intro.

 

**Deviantbby:** **evening every1!! glad you could make it. do anyone fun lately? ;3c buy from my wishlist and i’ll give you a special show <3**   
**Hbdbsja1: feet feet feet feet  
** **DeviantbbyBot1: user Hbdbsja1 has been banned  
** **MamaDragon6: hi baby! nice 2 c a new face around here  
** **HornyDaddy99: hot  
** **Emperor.Bitch: cute panties <3**

Ok, this was going ok. Synthetic heart pounding out of his chest to the point he could _hear_ it in his own ears aside. This was ok. 

**DeviantbbyBot1: Thanks Mamadragon6 for the $10 tip!**

Connor scoffed; ten dollar tip already? He didn’t even do anything yet.

Maybe it was just the sight of lingerie, with all the things he’d come across during the phone work it wouldn’t surprise him if that was enough to get some peoples rocks off. Whatever.

His Hitachi wand was fully charged, and he put it on the lowest setting. The buzz startled him a bit, hopefully it didn't show on camera. After dragging a delicate hand down the outline of his already interested clit, he pressed the wand down. Connor bit his lip, letting out a desperately pitiful, high moan as he began to slide the wand up and down.

**SpinItPullIt: <3 <3 <3  
** **Mamadragon6: thats it baby just like that <3  
** **JKlay: show us that pretty little cock  
** **desprtedove: got any plugs??**

Connor was kind of getting caught up in the wand, precum already starting to stain the light pink to a darker maroon. But for the record, yeah, he _did_ have a plug… wherever it was.  
Bedside table, third drawer down. Right.

This was messing with his head. everything felt dreamlike; in the best way. But as soon as the plug was in view of the camera the chat explodes and, with it, any nagging feeling that this was a bad idea.

**DeviantbbyBot1: Thanks Anonymous for the $5 tip!**

Apparently the cheeky little smirk that Connor made at this was cute, enough to make the chat explode again.

Connor decided he'd make a show of it. Careful to not show his face, he flipped around to show his ass to the camera, teasing the plug between him over the panties.

He couldn't see it, but if the almost consistent pinging from his laptop was anything to go by, he's probably doing something right.

**desperatly800: put it in babe  
** **Mamadragon6: good boy <3 cute plug <3**

It wasn't, really. Nothing special anyway. It had some near heart shaped bumps and ridges, the color a rosy pink. It occurred to him how many of his toys were pink. Probably something there. Connor put a mental pin in that one and filed it away for later.

His clit was starting to get impatient, the fabric rubbing all the right places of his sensitive hood. If he wasn't careful the friction would push him over the edge way too soon.

Truth be told, he'd had the plug for a full week and could never build up the courage to use it. It wasn't horribly large, but plugs were… foreign. Not that he didn’t spend a little time indulging with Hank, but he was almost never on the receiving end. He preferred to make Hank feel good, and Hank was into plugs; which was fine, if he could only figure out how Hank went about all this.

The internet, in all it's infinite knowledge, told him to be as relaxed as possible before trying to shove anything up his ass.

Being in front of a camera, an audience of 55 strangers, was not the most _relaxing_ position to be in.

Maybe…

Connor grabbed the bottle of lube, applied a generous amount to his fingers. He slid a finger to his entrance, imagined Hank’s thick fingers pawing and kneading. Imagined Hank reaching down to rub circles over his clit. He grinned, he knew what he was doing now; the plan was in action.

He shimmied down, leaving himself on his knees. Leaning forward to shove his face into his pillow, he teased the plug again. Never all the way in, just enough to drag out little mewls and whines of pleasure. In his mind Hank had a firm grip on his hips, the other entangled in his hair to keep him in place, hard red tip of his erection all but caressing him.

Meanwhile, Connor’s laptop was exploding behind him.

The panties, though—, the fucking panties. The friction between his growing aching clit, the fabric, plug reaching farther and farther in, the towel he laid down over his bedsheets: it was heaven. He ground his hips down slow, then faster and faster until the plug was lax in his fingers and easily slipped to fill him up and he was all but fucking himself against his bed.

Wait, they deserved to see this.

Smile wobbling, Connor flipped back around, showed off the soaked panties, and held the vibe to his front, flicked the wand to its highest setting. People seemed to like when he was vocal, if the chat right then was anything to go by. At least what he could read of it now.

 

**mine900: cum for me  
** **Mamadragon6: qt <3 be a good boy and come  
** **JgFll: piss yrself pissyrself psiss  
** **DeviantbbyBot1: user JgFll has been banned.  
** **JKLay: fuckk**

Connor let out a breathless laugh. Not the most stimulating conversation, but it was something. More than that, he had imaginary Hank laying the wand down rough on him just like he knew he liked it. A coiling in his stomach began to twist, imaginary Hank kissed down his neck, bit his ear. Connor’s muscles tensed, bracing for impact.

With an erratic roll of his hip and string of rambling borderline fuck-talk nonsense (“yesyesyesohfuckohmygodyesfUCK”) Connor jumped over the ledge and came, hard.

Chest heaving, Connor giggled as he laid limp against the bed. The chat pinged, another tip. After giving a second to let the afterglow cloud his mind, he reached forward-

Ew, wait, lube hands. Gross. This was a brand new laptop.   
A quick wipe of his hands with a tissue was enough for now.

**Deviantbby: hope u all enjoyed the show! ;) keep an eye out, might sell these if anyone wants em bad enough. cya soon?? xoxo**

Connor scanned the chat as he calmed, the viewers numbers quickly dwindling to nothing, probably spam accounts lingering. In the meantime, he scrolled back up to relive what he’d missed in his mindless indulgence.

**BigDD: so hot  
** **cum.bby: now cum for us hon ;)  
** **Mamadragon6: good boy <3  
** **b1g.d1clc: new fav**

A weird, new feeling settled in his stomach. Connor clicked the “turn off stream” button, and switched to paypal.   
$50 dollars, in _tips._ No fucking way. Connor gave a breathless laugh, hand punching the air. Hell fucking yes.   
Now it was just the matter of cleaning up, and the high was gone. Fuck, he felt like taking a nap, not laundry.

This is why it was better with Hank, the aftercare wasn’t a one man show. Hank was all over aftercare, drawing a bubble bath, or if they were both too tired to stay awake for a bath, joining him in the shower to wash his tiring muscles. He adored doting over Connor, and while Connor insisted it wasn’t necessary, he still reveled every little touch and backrub and the slow massage of his shampoo covered fingers through his hair.

Underwear put in a ziplock bag (in case some sick perv actually _legitimately_ wanted them), towel put away, Connor hopped in a warm shower and promptly collapsed into bed. He barely had the energy to shimmy into Hank’s oversized grey hoodie.

It was close to dinner, Hank would wake him when he got home. Takeout probably. Anything sounded good. He tried to not think about Hank too much as he drifted off to sleep.

Connor’s reboot time is way too impressive to think about Hank and try to sleep at the same time.

**Author's Note:**

> i love writing things i know d*vid c*ge would hate with a burning passion.  
> anway, couldnt stop thinking about camboy connor so here it is


End file.
